Toxicity in South Asian Culture: Never Have I Ever Season 3 Commentary

I was completely blown away by season three of Mindy Kaling’s Never Have I Ever. There is seriously so much to unpack. From the newly introduced brown boy to Aneesa’s evolving sexuality to Paxton’s road to maturity, the show unfolds in unpredictable and exciting ways. 

One of the most intriguing aspects of the show is how it represents toxic behavior. In many ways, Devi has acted like the poster child of a toxic brown girl, and even outside of her unruly actions, Never Have I Ever depicts toxic women with no restraint. While some viewers think this paints a bad picture of brown women, I think it’s fascinating to explore the ways in which realistic social dynamics are portrayed in the form of brown toxicity. Let’s dive in. 

Recap: Seasons One and Two

The first two seasons were rife with Devi’s incredibly problematic behavior, introducing viewers to a hotheaded South Indian protagonist in…perhaps not the most positive light. I heard quite a few critical reviews of the show that complained that Devi was too wild and toxic to be a realistic Indian character for audiences to relate to or appreciate. From spreading rumors about Aneesa to her wishing her mom had died instead of her dad, Devi shocked us all with her capacity to be…well, toxic. And this consistent toxicity did not resonate well with a multitude of viewers. Many of my friends and relatives were taken aback by how reckless Devi was. 

However, I thought Devi was a cleverly-crafted character. Her immature and hostile behavior, while inappropriate and unjust, was a direct result of the immense trauma she and her mother had faced. The first two seasons revealed to us Devi and Nalini’s persistent ache of having lost Mohan and having to face the aftereffects of his death. Devi had temporarily become paralyzed, with no idea if she would ever walk again. She was seen as an undesirable nerd at school, and continuously acted out to try and validate herself and cope with the crushing loss of her father. On the other hand, Nalini, still dealing with grief of her own, did her best to parent Devi in the ways she knew how while also being loving and hospitable to Kamala (many of the aspects of Nalini’s parenting style, toxic or not, may have manifested as a result of her upbringing as an Indian woman; her capacity to be strict and severe yet also affectionate and appreciative remind me of my experience as the daughter of Indian parents). Nalini wanted to install certain rules and regulations to protect Devi, although she didn’t always perfectly execute this idea. As a whole, Nalini’s overprotectiveness and cutting remarks and Devi’s rashness and fierce attitude make for a cocktail of conflict and toxicity. 

As far as the Vishwakumar family goes, their circumstances are certainly quite complicated. Do they warrant or forgive the hurtful behavior that Devi or Nalini exhibited? No. But they do provide us with an explanation of how familial trauma settles like a coat of dust—thick, slow to remove, and an indication that things have been left untouched for a while. Both Devi and Nalini attempted to bury many of their feelings regarding their difficult past, which only made the cycle of suffering more intense. In my personal experience, I’ve found this phenomenon to be a pattern within brown communities, representing a potential culture-wide inability to process trauma. Gradually, they had to learn to cope in a healthy way, relying on each other for support. But within their healing processes, I think it’s expected for them to have had some toxic behaviors; they were in the midst of rewiring their brains and hearts, and that is a taxing ordeal. 

Recap: Season Three

The third season showcased a lot of personal growth for Devi. As the haunting memories of her father began to resurface less and less frequently, she slowly adopted a more balanced and nontoxic way of living, conducting selfless acts in situations where, in the past, she may have selfishly lashed out. Now, don’t get me wrong—she shouldn’t have tried to cheat at the debate tournament or harass Ben as much as she did, but those were minor infractions compared to her behavior as a whole this season. Devi was adamant about standing up for and avenging Haley, even though Haley was intimidating as Paxton’s ex. In fact, Devi was quite patient and waited a while before confronting Paxton about her discomfort with Haley; she never would have been so mature in seasons past. Devi accepted her mistake when judging Des before getting to know him and was a supportive friend to Fabiola and Eleanor whenever they had trouble with Eve or Trent. Devi has grown, and I feel so much pride in seeing her journey. 

One character who showcased quite a bit of toxicity this season was Nirmala—her values were so rooted in tradition that she could barely conduct an amiable conversation with Kamala after things didn’t work out with Prashant. In fact, Kamala was barely able to eat in Nirmala’s presence, punished for her insubordination. Nirmala consistently dismissed Kamala’s needs, wanting to control her life and marriage as much as possible. However, as the season progressed, we learned that Nirmala’s toxicity often manifested out of a fear of Kamala having the same feeling of unfulfillment that Nirmala herself faced in her marriage. Nirmala’s husband was not mature enough to make sacrifices for his family, and she didn’t want Kamala to have the same fate. As soon as Nirmala communicated this concern to Kamala, there grew a newfound, mutual understanding between the two that healed the toxic conflict of before. The more I think about it, the more I realize how almost 100% of the conflicts in this show could be avoided if characters had learned healthy communication skills. 

Now, let’s talk about the real, toxic villain of season three. Rhyah. 

I knew there was something off about her when she was first introduced. Her cheerful demeanor seemed artificial, and as she slowly coaxed Nalini into friendship, I felt like something sinister was in store. Rhyah immediately seemed unusually close to her son, forcing him to go out and make friends with Devi when in reality, he was not the friendless reject she painted him out to be. Rhyah treated Nalini like a Pinterest board, pinning her ideals of healing, womanhood, and seed mixes onto the poor woman. The turning point for me was when Rhyah was helping tidy up Nalini’s garage. Nalini opened up about Devi’s previous struggles with temporary paralysis, and Rhyah used that conversation as an opportunity to share  how she was so grateful Des had been “easy” to parent. 

This attachment to Des came to a head when she assisted Devi through her bathroom breakdown during the orchestra concert, but then did a full one-eighty and told Des to dump her. “That girl has a lot of problems.” News flash, Rhyah: the perfect, angelic, carbon-copy of yourself you are searching for in Des’s potential bride-to-be does not exist. You are narcissistic, insensitive, and cruel. Toxic is an understatement. I can only imagine how hard it must have been for someone like Devi, who has had to overcome so much, to find out she was apparently not good enough for someone she adored. I’ve encountered many Indian mothers who have an unhealthy obsession with their sons, jumping at the chance to belittle any other women that may approach their “perfect boy”. Rhyah was definitely one of these types of moms. She kept going on and on about how Des’s “bright future” needed to be preserved, as if Devi was some sort of basket case or lost cause. In reality, Devi was just as, if not more capable than Des; she jumped through so many hoops to secure him a spot in her life, but as soon as his mom expressed her “concern”, he became a coward. Neither he nor Rhyah deserve to be graced with the presence of a survivor like Devi. Nalini deserved better in this situation, too. All she wanted was a true female friend she could rely on. Instead, she was met with the same toxicity she was trying to avoid. Never Have I Ever really outdid itself with Rhyah’s villainy. It truly enraged me. 

Takeaways

The season as a whole really made me reflect on what role toxicity plays in the lives of various communities and brown families. There is so much to learn from the characters’ triumphs and failures, laughs and tears; I spent a lot of time introspecting on my own potentially toxic behaviors, brainstorming how I could grow into a more selfless person as Devi did. I contemplated at length how to avoid the Rhyahs of the world and instead make space for the Bens. Ultimately, I thoroughly enjoyed this rollercoaster ride of a season, toxicity and all, and I hope you did too. 

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